'Would you mind Handel for a familiar name? There's a charming piece of music, by Handel, called the "Harmonious Blacksmith."'

'I should like it very much.'

d.i.c.kens' only contribution to hymnology appeared in the _Daily News_ February 14, 1846, with the t.i.tle 'Hymn of the Wiltshire Labourers.' It was written after reading a speech at one of the night meetings of the wives of agricultural labourers in Wiltshire, held with the object of pet.i.tioning for Free Trade.

This is the first verse:

O G.o.d, who by Thy Prophet's hand Did'st smite the rocky brake, Whence water came at Thy command Thy people's thirst to slake, Strike, now, upon this granite wall, Stern, obdurate, and high; And let some drop of pity fall For us who starve and die!

We find the fondness for Italian names shown by vocalists and pianists humorously parodied in such self-evident forms as Jacksonini, Signora Marra Boni, and Billsmethi. Banjo Bones is a self-evident _nom d'occasion_, and the high-sounding name of Rinaldo di Velasco ill befits the giant Pickleson (_Dr. M._), who had a little head and less in it. As it was essential that the Miss Crumptons of Minerva House should have an Italian master for their pupils, we find Signer Lobskini introduced, while the modern rage for Russian musicians is to some extent antic.i.p.ated in Major Tpschoffki of the Imperial Bulgraderian Brigade (_G.S._). His real name, if he ever had one, is said to have been Stakes.

d.i.c.kens has little to say about the music of his time, but in the reprinted paper called _Old Lamps for New Ones_ (written in 1850), which is a strong condemnation of pre-Raphaelism in art, he attacks a similar movement in regard to music, and makes much fun of the Brotherhood. He detects their influence in things musical, and writes thus:

In Music a retrogressive step in which there is much hope, has been taken. The P.A.B., or pre-Agincourt Brotherhood, has arisen, n.o.bly devoted to consign to oblivion Mozart, Beethoven, Handel, and every other such ridiculous reputation, and to fix its Millennium (as its name implies) before the date of the first regular musical composition known to have been achieved in England. As this inst.i.tution has not yet commenced active operations, it remains to be seen whether the Royal Academy of Music will be a worthy sister of the Royal Academy of Art, and admit this enterprising body to its orchestra. We have it, on the best authority, that its compositions will be quite as rough and discordant as the real old original.

Fourteen years later he makes use of a well-known phrase in writing to his friend Wills (October 8, 1864) in reference to the proofs of an article.

I have gone through the number carefully, and have been down upon Chorley's paper in particular, which was a 'little bit' too personal. It is all right now and good, and them's my sentiments too of the Music of the Future.[8]

Although there was little movement in this direction when d.i.c.kens wrote this, the paragraph makes interesting reading nowadays in view of some musical tendencies in certain quarters.

[1] In his speech at Birmingham on 'Literature and Art'

(1853) he makes special reference to the 'great music of Mendelssohn.'

[2] Moore's _Irish Melodies_.

[3] Moore.

[4] 'Seven Dials! the region of song and poetry--first effusions and last dying speeches: hallowed by the names of Catnac and of Pitts, names that will entwine themselves with costermongers and barrel-organs, when penny magazines shall have superseded penny yards of song, and capital punishment be unknown!' (_S.B.S._ 5.)

[5] The 'Hutchinson family' was a musical troupe composed of three sons and two daughters selected from the 'Tribe of Jesse,' a name given to the sixteen children of Jesse and Mary Hutchinson, of Milford, N.H. They toured in England in 1845 and 1846, and were received with great enthusiasm. Their songs were on subjects connected with Temperance and Anti-Slavery. On one occasion Judson, one of the number, was singing the 'Humbugged Husband,' which he used to accompany with the fiddle, and he had just sung the line 'I'm sadly taken in,'

when the stage where he was standing gave way and he nearly disappeared from view. The audience at first took this as part of the performance.

[6] Miss Rainforth was the soloist at the first production of Mendelssohn's 'Hear my Prayer.' (See _The Choir_, March, 1911.)

[7] John Curwen published his _Grammar of Vocal Music_ in 1842.

[8] Quoted in Mr. R.C. Lehmann's _d.i.c.kens as an Editor_ (1912).

CHAPTER II

INSTRUMENTAL COMBINATIONS

VIOLIN, VIOLONCELLO, HARP, PIANO

d.i.c.kens' orchestras are limited, both in resources and in the number of performers; in fact, it would be more correct to call them combinations of instruments. Some of them are of a kind not found in modern works on instrumentation, as, for instance, at the party at Trotty Veck's (_Ch._) when a 'band of music' burst into the good man's room, consisting of a drum, marrow-bones and cleavers, and bells, 'not _the_ bells but a portable collection on a frame.' We gather from Leech's picture that other instrumentalists were also present. Sad to relate, the drummer was not quite sober, an unfortunate state of things, certainly, but not always confined to the drumming fraternity, since in the account of the Party at Minerva House (_S.B.T._) we read that amongst the numerous arrivals were 'the pianoforte player and the violins: the harp in a state of intoxication.'

We have an occasional mention of a theatre orchestra, as, for instance, when the Phenomenon was performing at Portsmouth (_N.N._):

'Ring in the orchestra, Grudden.'

That useful lady did as she was requested, and shortly afterwards the tuning of three fiddles was heard, which process, having been protracted as long as it was supposed that the patience of the orchestra could possibly bear it, was put a stop to by another jerk of the bell, which, being the signal to begin in earnest, set the orchestra playing a variety of popular airs with involuntary variations.

On one occasion d.i.c.kens visited Vauxhall Gardens by day, where 'a small party of dismal men in c.o.c.ked hats were "executing"

the overture to _Tancredi_,' but he does not, unfortunately, give us any details about the number or kind of instruments employed. This would be in 1836, when the experiment of day entertainments was given a trial, and a series of balloon ascents became the princ.i.p.al attraction. Forster tells us that d.i.c.kens was a frequent visitor at the numerous gardens and places of entertainment which abounded in London, and which he knew better than any other man. References will be found elsewhere to the music at the Eagle (p. 47) and the White Conduit Gardens (p. 93).

_Violin and Kit._

We meet with but few players on the violin, and it is usually mentioned in connexion with other instruments, though it was to the strains of a solitary fiddle that Simon Tappert.i.t danced a hornpipe for the delectation of his followers, while the same instrument supplied the music at the Fezziwig's ball.

In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches.

The orchestra at the 'singing-house' provided for Jack's amus.e.m.e.nt when ash.o.r.e (_U.T._ 5) consisted of a fiddle and tambourine; while at dances the instruments were fiddles and harps. It was the harps that first aroused Mr. Jingle's curiosity, as he met them being carried up the staircase of The Bull at Rochester, while, shortly after, the tuning of both harps and fiddles inspired Mr. Tupman with a strong desire to go to the ball. Sometimes the orchestra is a little more varied. At the private theatricals which took place at Mrs. Gattleton's (_S.B.T._ 9), the selected instruments were a piano, flute, and violoncello, but there seems to have been a want of proper rehearsal.

Ting, ting, ting! went the prompter's bell at eight o'clock precisely, and dash went the orchestra into the overture to the _Men of Prometheus_. The pianoforte player hammered away with laudable perseverance, and the violoncello, which struck in at intervals, sounded very well, considering. The unfortunate individual, however, who had undertaken to play the flute accompaniment 'at sight' found, from fatal experience, the perfect truth of the old adage, 'Out of sight, out of mind'; for being very near-sighted, and being placed at a considerable distance from his music-book, all he had an opportunity of doing was to play a bar now and then in the wrong place, and put the other performers out. It is, however, but justice to Mr. Brown to say that he did this to admiration. The overture, in fact, was not unlike a race between the different instruments; the piano came in first by several bars, and the violoncello next, quite distancing the poor flute; for the deaf gentleman _too-too'd_ away, quite unconscious that he was at all wrong, until apprised, by the applause of the audience, that the overture was concluded.

It was probably after this that the pianoforte player fainted away, owing to the heat, and left the music of _Masaniello_ to the other two. There were differences between these remaining musicians and Mr. Harleigh, who played the t.i.tle role, the orchestra complaining that 'Mr. Harleigh put them out, while the hero declared that the orchestra prevented his singing a note.'

It was to the strains of a wandering harp and fiddle that Marion and Grace Jeddler danced 'a trifle in the Spanish style,'

much to their father's astonishment as he came bustling out to see who 'played music on his property before breakfast.'

The little fiddle commonly known as a 'kit' that dancing-masters used to carry in their capacious tail coat pockets was much more in evidence in the middle of last century than it is now. Caddy Jellyby (_B.H._), after her marriage to a dancing-master, found a knowledge of the piano and the kit essential, and so she used to practise them a.s.siduously. When Sampson Bra.s.s hears Kit's name for the first time he says to Swiveller:

'Strange name--name of a dancing-master's fiddle, eh, Mr. Richard?'

We must not forget the story of a fine young Irish gentleman, as told by the one-eyed bagman to Mr. Pickwick and his friends, who,

being asked if he could play the fiddle, replied he had no doubt he could, but he couldn't exactly say for certain, because he had never tried.

_Violoncello_

Mr. Morfin (_D. & S._), 'a cheerful-looking, hazel-eyed elderly bachelor,' was

a great musical amateur--in his way--after business, and had a paternal affection for his violoncello, which was once in every week transported from Islington, his place of abode, to a certain club-room hard by the Bank, where quartets of the most tormenting and excruciating nature were executed every Wednesday evening by a private party.

His habit of humming his musical recollections of these evenings was a source of great annoyance to Mr. James Carker, who devoutly wished 'that he would make a bonfire of his violoncello, and burn his books with it.' There was only a thin part.i.tion between the rooms which these two gentlemen occupied, and on another occasion Mr. Morfin performed an extraordinary feat in order to warn the manager of his presence.

I have whistled, hummed tunes, gone accurately through the whole of Beethoven's Sonata in B, to let him know that I was within hearing, but he never heeded me.

This particular sonata has not hitherto been identified.

It is comforting to know that the fall of the House of Dombey made no difference to Mr. Morfin, who continued to solace himself by producing 'the most dismal and forlorn sounds out of his violoncello before going to bed,' a proceeding which had no effect on his deaf landlady, beyond producing 'a sensation of something rumbling in her bones.'